


Rite of Passage

by lennongirl



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Coitus Interruptus, F/M, First Kiss, Future Fic, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-12-17 18:52:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/870858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lennongirl/pseuds/lennongirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five first times for Jaime Lannister - and one time that only felt like a first time but actually wasn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rite of Passage

**Author's Note:**

> Set in an undated future, no plot spoilers beyond series 3.
> 
> Beta by stuffnthings9 - thank you so much!
> 
> The story is also available in Italian [right here](http://roxar.livejournal.com/6012.html) (translated by roxar, thank you!).

**I.**

The first time Jaime Lannister kissed Brienne of Tarth, it wasn't something he'd planned on or meant to do at that exact moment - yet it was long, long overdue. Jaime had wondered what it would be like to kiss her ever since he'd started dreaming of her - not counting that very first dream, the dream of Brienne being the only person staying by his side, under the Rock, in the dark. No, his dreams had changed as of late, had become more enjoyable – pleasurable, even. He had dreamed of Brienne being sweet and soft and tender; of Brienne carefully caressing him and taking care of him in a way that made him sigh and grin. Most often, he'd woken up from those dreams aroused; sometimes, satisfied, and sometimes, Jaime hadn't even been sleeping at all while he was dreaming of her.

So he wondered and wondered about how much of it is dreaming and wishful thinking, and how much could be true. He knew about Brienne being gentle and taking care of him, he'd experienced that a long time ago. But he wondered if there would be taut muscles and bruised skin, or if there was also softness to be found in touching her. He wondered if she'd shy away from him or maybe lean into his touch. He wondered if he could make her sigh and smile as well.

The moment all his thoughts came together and made him act, nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Brienne was standing in the yard; she had just finished polishing her sheath and was about to fold the piece of crumbled cloth she had used for the task. Jaime walked up to her and pressed his lips against hers, straightforward and simple as that. 

No magical powers rose to the occasion, there were no songs to be heard, the sun was not suddenly shining down on them from an otherwise gray sky. There was just Brienne shoving him, _hard_ , and the words "Ser, how _dare_ you?" almost spat into his face. She turned and stomped away, angry as could be.

He didn’t follow her right then, he knew she'd come around.

She always had in his dreams.

 

**II.**

The first time Jaime made Brienne sigh and smile - just the way he'd planned to - was a few weeks later. It was late afternoon, the sun about to set and Jaime's stomach was growling. Brienne turned her head around and looked at him. She raised an eyebrow, just so, showed him the hint of a smile, and asked " _That_ hungry?" There was a certain _thing_ to her voice, as if she was being quite cocksure of herself, it was a tone still very new to her, a tone she had recently started playing around with - having tried it on for measurements and found it quite pleasing. It was a tone Jaime had come to enjoy and craved more of.

"Well," Jaime replied, "even a mighty lion needs a good feast every now and then. Especially in times of exhaustion such as these."

"Exhaustion, is it? Oh. I'm must admit, I hadn't expected the famous Lion of Lannister to be exhausted quite so easily. Was it yet another famous name overpraised, Ser?"

"I think not... didn't you hear me roar just then, while I was..."

"Jaime!" she interrupted him harshly, for even though she'd come a ways lately, it was still too easy for him to get her all flustered and blushing. Brienne, Jaime had learned, rather did certain things, hinted at them maybe, but wasn't quite ready to openly talk about them... yet. But it was nothing too bothersome. It was just another wall Jaime intended to tear down, and he felt as if he had all the time in the world.

"You need not worry, my lady, for this lion does live up to his name. And he has all he needs to feast right here, right now." 

And he shifted his hips, ever so slightly, just to let the naked woman in his arms feel that he'd recovered enough to take her again, growling stomach be damned.

"You're impossible, Ser," is what she said against his lips, with a smile and a sigh.

 

**III.**

The first time Jaime let Brienne take over, _really take over_ , was the day he was rewarded with the longest, hardest and most intense climax in all of his life ( _so far_ ). Brienne straddled him, she hadn’t let him enter her yet; she was just sitting on his groin, not moving at all.

Damn.

Jaime tried to rise somewhat, had to kiss, touch, feel, something.

"No, stay down," she hissed and pushed him back onto the mattress.

Jaime cursed inwardly, his left hand grabbed Brienne's thigh, hard (there would be bruises later, hopefully), and bucked against her, beneath her, in a very helpless and perhaps pathetic act, but gods, he was way too turned on to care. He was so turned on, he forgot his place and attempted to rise again, and again Brienne pushed him back, harder even than before.

"I said stay down!" she growled, leaning over him, watching intently, her blue eyes glaring at him, and Jaime was taken aback by the intensity of it all.

He wanted, he needed, he must. And so he surrendered. 

And Brienne _knew_ it. Felt it, somehow.

"Good," she whispered and moved, finally, lowering herself onto Jaime and taking him all the way in.

Jaime grunted, the heat and wetness suddenly engulfing him. He moaned as Brienne clenched some muscles and the heat around him grew even tighter.

"So you like that," she stated. It wasn’t a question, far from it: a statement, a command, even. "You like it."

"Yes," Jaime hissed and closed his eyes, concentrating on the feeling alone, and being there, inside, _finally_.

He opened his eyes once Brienne started moving. She started slowly at first, trying to find the pace that pleased her. She shifted slightly, leaning back some more and eventually fell into a rhythm that suited her desires.

Jaime watched, breathing heavily. Brienne was lost in the sensation, her eyes fluttered closed and Jaime was mesmerised. He watched her ride him, urgently, passionately, faster and faster. He watched her, watched this big, beautiful, wonderful woman moving on top of him, using him to fulfil her pleasure.

Using him.

"Yes," Jaime repeated, a silent whisper, nothing more than a breath. "Yes."

And Brienne sighed and moaned and moved and Jaime couldn’t, just couldn't. He knew it was too early, too soon but he was too overwhelmed to hold back any longer. It felt like surrender and salvation and floating, all at the same time. It felt right and wrong, victorious and defeated, free and captured, released and taken. It was all too much. It was all too intense. It was all too good. And he let go.

He spilled into her, seemingly unable to stop anymore. His cock jerked and he felt as though he was having a seizure, and then the world went black.

Brienne had him cradled in her arms him when he came to. He had wanted to say something, tell her he was sorry and that he'd make it up to her. He opened his mouth, really, _really_ wanting to let her know, but he got no further than "I've never---" before she silenced him with a kiss.

 

**IV.**

The first time Jaime told Brienne he loved her, he had to repeat it twice before she would believe him.

"I love you."

Her eyes went wide and she stared at him, expression blank.

"I love you."

She furrowed her brow, and Jaime could read her expression. It wasn’t what he had hoped for and he hated it. He saw confusion, hurt, and fear. He could see she didn’t believe him, couldn’t believe him, wouldn’t allow herself to believe him, and he swore to himself he would make it his own personal mission to hunt down the men who did that to her, made her first reaction to his honest declaration such a sad one.

"Brienne," he pulled her close, softly touching her back with his good hand, hoping the sound of her name and the comfort of his touch would help her realise. "Brienne, I love you."

Again, he saw it in her eyes at first, a small sparkle that would eventually turn into a smile.

 

**V.**

The first (and hopefully last) time somebody walked in on them fucking, happened in an inn on the Northern Road. After having been on the road for way too long, they enjoyed their hot bath, warm room, and soft mattress. Jaime had Brienne on her knees in front of him, taking her from behind, fast, hard and rough, because that was what he wanted and needed ( _luckily for them both, she did too_ ): The feeling of conquering her, this brave, strong, wonderful woman he was lucky to call his. He needed - wanted to devour her, to claim her, to mark her. He wanted, wanted, wanted, and Brienne gave so willingly. She gave him her soul, her heart, her love ( _never her pride, that wasn’t what this was about, that isn’t what Jaime would ever want from her, anyway_ ). 

Brienne surrendered to Jaime, in a sweet, loving way despite the roughness with which he handled her. She didn’t ask for anything in return, never used sex as a weapon, not her. Brienne had other, far more clever ways of getting what she wanted. Sex with Brienne might have occasionally looked like a shift of power, and sometimes it was a struggle for dominance, but then again, so was their sparring, and nobody ever saw any harm in that. So when Jaime fucked her like that, it was exactly as it seemed: A good, rough way of satisfying both of their very urgent needs.

It was passionate, wild and loud. The noises Brienne made were not noises of pain, but of pleasure. Jaime had learned the difference by then, he knew by the way she cried out that his angle was good. And when he stilled and reached in front of her, touching her sweet spot, just there, while steadying both of them with his right arm (he knew all about the right amount of pressure without making it feel awkward), she fell silent for a moment. Jaime's thumb circled around the nub a few times, teasing her, testing her patience. When she wiggled her hips, ever so slightly, he rubbed her in earnest. A few strokes and he slipped his middle finger inside her along with his cock. He knew she liked it, to be filled that way. And when she cried out once again, he could tell her cries were the passionate kind.

The young man (a squire? Servant? Jaime never found out) who was suddenly standing in the room might have begged to differ. "Are you... I..." he stammered and stared, stared, stared, arms full of the food they'd sent for ages ago, eyes full of shock, disbelief and, if Jaime deciphered it correctly, disdain. And then everything happened at once, in an instant, and Jaime's old instincts took over.

"YOU! BOY!" he barked, snapping the serving boy out of his stupor. The boy blinked once, twice, and raced out of the room as if his life depended on it. Which it did, as far as Jaime was concerned. He pulled out of Brienne with a smacking sound and a pang of regret and grabbed the nearest piece of cloth available to somehow cover his achingly hard manhood before running after him. He heard Brienne cry out for him to stop, to stay, but her words didn’t register. He had to find the boy, the witness to their fornication, to their sin. _Gods, he saw us._ He’d had to find him, to make sure he wouldn’t tell. Jaime would do whatever it took to keep him silent; he would have even cut out his...

And suddenly, it hit him and he stopped in his tracks, in the middle of the stairs. He breathed and allowed himself to _think_. _There is no need_ , Jaime realised. It may have been a shameful experience, especially for Brienne, but it was not a sin. It was his right. Their right.

A cough alerted him to the innkeeper and three other men, most likely travellers, who were staring up at him, open mouthed, undoubtedly shocked by his nudity.

And Jaime laughed, because it was so absurd and he was free to be in love. It was his right to be in love. And he didn’t need to hide it, not now, nor ever again.

He shook his head and looked questioningly at the gaping group. And he admitted to them, just because he actually, _finally_ could do so: "You're wondering? Well. I am the Lion of Lannister, upstairs is the woman I love, my lady wife, now, who the fuck are you?"

 

**+1.**

In the end, it took them nearly a year before the inevitable happened. Jaime was too busy being happy to notice anything amiss, and Brienne never mentioned anything - perhaps because both of them had needed to deal with so many consequences of their past already, that this one was easily neglected. 

So when Brienne told Jaime that she was with child, the words didn’t register at first. Once they did, he felt warm and good and happy and could hear himself say "Oh" and "this is wonderful, I've always wanted to be..." and then realised what he was thinking and saying and stopped abruptly, his smile fading, because fuck, how on earth could he ever...? 

It was much too sudden and Jaime didn’t know how to react, what to say, how to feel. What was proper, what was right? He wanted to make it up to Brienne, wanted to show her he was happy with her news, but he wasn’t sure he even had the right to be. He didn’t intend to hurt her ( _ever_ ), and he inwardly cursed himself for his reaction, yet he just didn’t know any better. He wasn’t sure he even deserved to be a father ( _again_ ), not after all that had happened. He had sired three children already, no matter how little he felt about it, and the short moment of forgetting all about it filled him with deep shame. 

And who was to say any of it will be different ( _better_ ) the second time around?

"Jaime," Brienne said, just that, just his name, and when he looked at her, he saw love and trust and the feeling that _this is right_ in her eyes.

He breathed and prayed to his children, all of them, dead and alive. He hoped for them to forgive him and understand, somehow, someday. He vowed to himself to make it up to them somehow, someday. To them and to this new unborn life. Being with Brienne, it seemed possible that he just might be able to. She had made him a better man than he had ever thought he could be, a better knight than he ever hoped to be; she would make him a better father as well. And when she told him "You will be a wonderful father," Jaime took her into his arms and allowed himself to feel the pain, once and for all, to accept it and respect it and make peace with it. 

And then, the pain faded away and everything felt good. It felt as if it was meant to be – perhaps it was.

And Jaime smiled.


End file.
